The Blake Adventures: Silent Night
by AndAllThatMishigas
Summary: Someone is out to get the Blake household, just in time for Christmas.
1. Chapter 1

**The Blake Adventures: Silent Night**

 _December 1960_

Dr. Lucien Blake walked out of Sacred Heart with his arm around his wife's shoulders. She had finished drying her eyes and was putting her handkerchief back in her purse.

"Are you alright?" he asked with concern.

Jean nodded. "I'm fine. I didn't even know Catherine Michaels that well. My boys went to school with her son and daughter. They're grown now, of course, but my heart goes out to Ben and Margaret. Last year, you had their father arrested for murdering Father Emery, and he's been in prison for the last six months. And now, to lose their mother to a heart attack so near to Christmas? I can't imagine how hard that must be."

Lucien gave her a small squeeze. "We paid our respects. If they need anything from us, I'm sure they'll ask."

"Mmm," she agreed noncommittally.

"Tell you what, you can bake them something for the holiday and we can bring it to them in a few days. I'll check in on them as a friendly doctor, hmm?" he offered.

She smiled at him. "I think that would be very nice." Jean took a deep breath and let it out slowly just as they got in the car to drive home. "Alright, I think that's enough sadness today. I don't want to think about this anymore. We should do something fun."

Lucien glanced at her as he drove, grinning at her practical and strong nature. "I quite agree."

"I know it's a bit early, but why don't we decorate the Christmas tree? Since you insisted on buying the tree early anyway," she suggested.

"As I said before, Jean, when the perfect Christmas tree presents itself, you do not wait until a more convenient time presents itself. No, you snatch it right up and bring it home so your wife can complain about it for a week," Lucien responded facetiously.

Jean clicked her tongue at him in disapproval, but suppressed a grin as she looked out the car window.

Upon arriving home, Jean and Lucien found that they weren't the only ones in the holiday spirit. Charlie and Mattie were in the kitchen making batches and batches of Christmas treats.

"My goodness!" Jean exclaimed upon seeing the state of her kitchen.

Lucien followed in. "What have we here? It smells wonderful!"

Mattie, slightly covered in flour, turned to them with a smile. "We're baking biscuits! Charlie is teaching me."

"Well, I'm trying to teach her," Charlie corrected.

"I'm not very good yet," Mattie admitted. "Those are the ones Charlie did," she said, pointing to two trays full of the most perfect Christmas biscuits anyone had ever seen. "And these are mine." Mattie pointed to four trays of rather sad-looking biscuits, slightly misshapen with smudged decorative frosting.

"It's always good to learn a new skill," Lucien told her encouragingly.

"Yes, and they aren't so bad. I'm sure they'll taste wonderful, even if they don't look as pretty," Jean added.

Behind Mattie, Charlie shook his head at them with warning. Apparently they tasted about as good as they looked.

"We'll clean everything up, Jean, I promise," Mattie assured her.

"You two continue your baking lesson. We're going to start decorating the tree. You're welcome to join us when you can," Lucien told them.

With that, Jean sent Lucien to the attic to retrieve the box of ornaments and decorations. She went about tending to the tree, already sitting atop the table in the front room. Some of the branches were looking a little sparse. But Christmas was only a week away. It would surely last until then. She could just tell that she'd be picking pine needles off the table and floor every time she came into that room until Boxing Day.

"Here we are!" Lucien announced, carrying in the large box over to Jean. He set it down and grinned widely. "This is our first Christmas as husband and wife. And our first in this house as a couple," he noted happily.

"Yes, that's right. We were engaged last year at Christmastime, and we went to Adelaide to spend the holiday with Ruby and Christopher and little Amelia," Jean remembered.

Lucien nodded. "She was just starting to talk."

"She called you grandpa."

"Yes, she did," he recalled with a wistful expression. Being called 'grandpa' was never something he expected, not from Amelia or any other child. He'd been nearly moved to tears upon realizing that Ruby and Christopher must have prepared Amelia to call him that. Being welcomed into the family, before he and Jean had even gotten married, had been the most wonderful Christmas gift.

Jean could tell he was getting a little misty, so she knew to distract him. "Let's get started, shall we? I like to do the lights and garland first, then the ornaments, and finish with the tinsel."

Lucien suddenly realized that he had never decorated the Christmas tree with her in their years together. She'd always done it herself two days before Christmas. "Right. I suppose we'll start with the lights then."

They were able to string the multicolored bulbs quite easily, and Jean did the garland with the deft expertise of experience. She was eager to get to the ornaments, her very favorite part.

Lucien began unwrapping the delicate glass ornaments from their protective coverings and handing them to Jean to place on the tree. She commented on each one as it was revealed.

"This one almost broke one year. Your father was looking at the tree and the phone rang, and it startled him. You can see the small crack in the bottom from where it fell on the floor, see?" She showed him the slight damage on the porcelain bell. "I'm glad it didn't get ruined. I think it's so pretty."

Lucien smiled and handed her another. "Do you have a story for each one?"

"I think so, yes. I've been putting these ornaments on this tree for years."

"I'm glad you like them. I always did."

Jean found his statement to be strangely cryptic. "Did your father have these ornaments when you lived here as a boy?"

"Oh yes. These all belonged to my mother. That porcelain bell you like so much? I sat in her studio and watched her paint it."

"I had no idea!"

"Yes, she would buy a few new ones each year and add her own decoration to them. That way they'd all be ours, as she said." He unwrapped another ornament. This one was a white ball with delicate poinsettias painted on. "This was the first time I'd ever seen flowers of this kind. Mother remembered poinsettias from her childhood in France and always thought of them at Christmastime."

"This one was always your father's favorite," Jean told him. "I'd always put it in the front and he'd come look at it every time he came near the tree."

They continued on, each telling their own memories of the ornaments, until they unwrapped the very last one. Lucien immediately started to laugh. "Oh my god, I can't believe Dad kept this!"

Jean took the red ball painted with abstract green decoration from him and held it defensively. "Why shouldn't he keep it? It's beautiful. Actually, this one is my favorite."

He was surprised. "My god, really? Why on earth should it be your favorite!?"

"Well I know it looks a bit messy, perhaps, but I think that's why I like it so. It reminds me of what Christmas always has been for me. Messy and a little chaotic, but always comfortable and happy."

Lucien came over to give her a big kiss on the cheek. "You are a marvel, Jean, and it boggles the mind that I could have possibly found such a perfect wife to love."

She stared at him with confusion. "What on earth prompted that?"

"Your favorite messy little Christmas ornament there is the only one my mother didn't paint. I painted that one myself when I was about six years old."

Jean felt her heart melt in her chest. She looked back at the ornament she'd loved so much for all these years, seeing it now with the knowledge that her husband had painted it as a child. She gave a small smile. "I shouldn't be surprised. Everything I learn about you makes me love you more. A Christmas ornament should be no different."

He kissed her on the cheek again, this time much softer. "Put that last one on the tree and add the tinsel. I'll pour us a drink before dinner."

They were toasting to their newly decorated tree just as Mattie and Charlie joined them. "Oh Jean, it's beautiful!" Mattie gushed.

"It is, isn't it?" Jean agreed with a proud smile.

"Almost makes me glad I won't be going back to Melbourne this year," Charlie commented.

Lucien put a hand on his shoulder. "It must be hard to not be at home with your family for Christmas. But I'm glad you'll be here with us."

Charlie stared at the decorated tree with a sheepish smile. "I'm glad too. This was I can be home here with this family."

The doorbell interrupted the sentimental moment. "I'll get it," Mattie volunteered.

Since it wasn't dark yet, Jean caught a glimpse out of the front window of someone running away from the house. The sheer day curtains obscured any details beyond that. Jean frowned curiously and went to get a closer look.

Mattie opened the front door and screamed, slamming the door closed. Before anyone could question her, an enormous explosion shook the house, and smoke filled the entry way.


	2. Chapter 2

When Lucien regained his footing, he immediately yelled for everyone. "Jean? Charlie? Mattie?"

"I'm fine, Doc," Charlie replied immediately. He'd been knocked to the floor but got right back up and rushed out to the entryway.

"Jean?!" Lucien shouted again, panicking.

She groaned slightly from the floor near the front window. "I'm alright. Go see to Mattie!" she insisted.

Lucien and Charlie found Mattie knocked unconscious. "Charlie, go out and see what's happened. Then call the police station."

Charlie did as he was told. Lucien picked Mattie up and carried her into his surgery, depositing her on the exam table. His mind was of one singular mission, ensuring her wellbeing.

Jean needed a moment before she could get up. The blast had knocked her back rather hard. The window shattered, spraying glass all over her. She could feel a few minor cuts, but nothing to worry about. She was more shaken than anything else. Eventually, her concern for Mattie outweighed any lingering shock she was experiencing. She hauled herself up and made her way into the surgery. "How is she?" Jean asked Lucien.

"Oh she'll be just fine. Just needs a bit of rest. She'll have a nasty headache for a few days, I think, but that explosion wasn't big enough to cause any lasting damage," he explained.

Charlie returned. "I didn't see anyone or anything. But the porch and front door are completely destroyed. I just rang the station, and the Chief Superintendent is going to come himself."

"Thank you, Charlie," Lucien answered, not looking away from Mattie. He was fairly certain she was just knocked unconscious, but he wanted to be absolutely sure she hadn't been injured anywhere else.

Charlie looked to Jean and exclaimed, "Oh my god!"

That caused Lucien to turn. He looked at his wife and his eyes went wide. "My god, Jean! Sit down here," he insisted, leading her to a nearby chair. "Charlie, I need a basin of water and some towels. I'll also need my medical bag."

Jean frowned. "What? I'm fine!" But then she looked down and saw that the sleeves of her blouse were covered in blood. She hadn't even felt the pain. That must have been the shock.

"After Charlie brings me what I need, I'll have him step out. We'll need to remove your clothes to clean the wounds and make sure there aren't serious injuries."

She just nodded numbly. "You're sure Mattie will be alright?"

"She'll wake up soon. She's fine for now. It's you I'm more concerned with. Honestly, I might want to call the ambulance for you," Lucien replied with worry.

"I'm really fine, Lucien. I don't feel anything. Wouldn't I feel something if I were bleeding to death?"

"Not necessarily. And I will not take that risk."

Charlie returned with the things Lucien had asked for. He then left to wait for Chief Inspector Carlyle and give the Blakes their privacy.

Lucien very carefully helped Jean out of her blouse. As soon as it was off her, the extent of the damage was very clearly limited. She'd covered her face as she'd fallen, so her arms had taken the brunt of all the glass. Lucien cleaned each cut, most of which were shallow and minor, but had bled extensively, and stitched up the three that were the worst. He bandaged her with great care. When he was finished, he asked her to remove the rest of her clothes so he could be sure she wasn't injured anywhere else. She stripped down to just her undergarments and allowed him to examine her. At that point, he was finally satisfied that she was alright. Lucien exhaled for what felt like the first time since before the explosion. Jean was watching him expectantly. He very gently took her in his arms and held her close, breathing in the scent of her hair to calm himself down.

As Jean stood there in her husband's arms, she began to feel the pain of her injuries. Her heart began to race and she felt like she was going to be sick. She began to breathe quicker, nearly hyperventilating.

Lucien could feel the change in her. He held her tighter and tried to soothe her. "The shock is wearing off, and you're coming down from the adrenaline. Try to take deep breaths. Shh, you're alright, love. Everyone is alright."

She tried to follow his instruction, but it was rather difficult. She focused on his voice and gradually gained control of her breathing. Lucien let go of her and had her sit back down. He left her for just a moment, to run up to the bedroom and get her dressing gown. It wouldn't do for her to be in her intimates when the house was soon to be full of investigating policemen. He wrapped her up in her soft, pink dressing gown and found some pills to give her. The sedative would help her rest and relieve the pain for a while. He took her upstairs to rest before dealing with the police.

"Dr. Blake, we've gotten Davis's statement. Anything you can add?" Frank asked, seeing Lucien reappear downstairs.

"I'm not entirely sure what Charlie told you, but I can probably add that it was a dynamite blast, likely just one stick of it."

Charlie frowned. "How do you know that?"

"Before I returned to Ballarat, I worked as an army doctor in a mining town. I've seen my fair share of dynamite. I know what that blast feels and sounds and smells like. And this was dynamite. Enough to knock out Mattie, who can't have been more than five feet from the blast, and to destroy my porch and front door and windows," Lucien explained.

"And how is Mrs. Blake?" Frank asked.

"Resting comfortably. She had a few cuts on her arms that needed stitches, but she'll be right as rain before the holiday next week."

"Blake, is there anyone who has it out for you? Anyone who would do this? Because let's be fair, this has to be directed at you. The list of people you've pissed off over the years isn't short," Frank stated.

"I hate to admit it, but you're probably right. Charlie is a policeman, but I doubt he's cultivated this kind of ire from anyone. And I can't imagine that there's anyone in the entire world who would wish to harm Mattie or Jean," Lucien replied with resignation. "I'll think about it and let you know if anyone comes to mind. Right now I can't think of a one."

Frank nodded. "Fine. Take care of Nurse O'Brien and Mrs. Blake. Sergeant Davis will interview each of them when they're able. And I'm going to send some people out to repair your house right now. You need a front door."

Lucien shook his hand. "Thank you, Frank. I appreciate it."

With that, the police left. The house was quiet, though much the worse for wear. Lucien went to the surgery to sit with Mattie. She woke up within the hour. As Lucien had predicted, she had a bad headache. He gave her some mild painkillers to help, but she didn't want to be too drugged. She described to Charlie what she'd seen on the porch—a stick of dynamite with a lit fuse. Lucien made her a cup of tea and set her up to bed for more rest.

A carpenter arrived, sent by Frank, to fit a new door, replace the window, and clean up the porch as best he could. Charlie made a very simple dinner for everyone. Lucien took plates up to Mattie and to Jean to make sure they got some nutrition. Once the house was in order, everyone went to bed very early. Everything would be better in the morning.

And it was. Jean, other than having cuts all over her arms, felt completely back to normal. Mattie woke with a slightly less excruciating headache, but otherwise fine. Charlie went to work as always, and Lucien spent his day trying to think of who could have possibly attacked their home this way.

"Lucien?"

He looked up from his notes. "Yes, Jean? Is everything alright?"

"Yes, dear, I'm fine. You need to stop asking. I'll let you know if I'm not alright."

"Sorry. I'm just not used to having you as a patient of sorts," he apologized.

She gave a half-smile. "I know. You're very sweet. I just wanted to see what you were doing. You've been awfully quiet all day."

"I'm looking through my old case notes to see if I can find anyone who might be out for revenge against me."

"And?"

"No one."

"Not one person matching his description?"

Lucien furrowed his brow. "Whose description?"

"I saw someone run away from the house after the doorbell rang. I only saw him for a moment and from the back, so I can't be too sure, but he did have medium brown hair, a little long, and he wore a black suit. I think he was rather tall, but I could be wrong."

"I'll call Frank right away and let him know. Thank you, Jean."

She nodded. "Anything else I can do, you let me know." She crossed to his side of the desk and kissed the top of his head, giving his shoulders a small squeeze before leaving him.

After calling the police station, Lucien found that they had no leads, and the description was only marginally helpful. They couldn't very well arrest every brown-haired man who owned a black suit.

In the middle of the night, the household was awakened by the phone ringing. Poor Mattie had her headache exacerbated by the sound. Charlie answered it; there had been a shooting in town and a young busboy on his break in the alley behind the Colonist's Club had been killed. Lucien needed to confirm cause of death. Charlie went with him at Jean's insistence.

"You think this could be related to our explosion?" Charlie asked as they drove into town.

"I have no idea. If it is related, God only knows how. But a random shooting isn't common in Ballarat, so I sincerely hope we don't have two nutters on the loose," Lucien replied bitterly.

The examination and determination was very straightforward. Lucien ruled it a homicide by gunshot. A .38 had gotten young Alvin Chelsey in the chest, eviscerating his lung. He'd died in a matter of moments.

Just as Lucien was explaining this to Frank, shots rang out in the alley. Everyone dove for cover. The gunman was nowhere to be seen. A bullet hit a trashcan about a foot away from Lucien's face. Another shot went into the wall only inches away from where Charlie was.

And as soon as it started, it stopped.

"Everyone alright?" Frank called out. Only Sergeant Bill Hobart had been out there with Charlie and Dr. Blake. All three of them were unscathed. "That's it. Blake, I'm giving you police protection. It is no coincidence that someone was shooting at you less than two days after dynamite was lit on your front porch."

"I don't think all that's necessary," Lucien protested.

"Well I do. End of discussion."

Lucien drove back home with Charlie. Jean was waiting up for them. She got one look at their slightly stunned faces and asked what was wrong.

"About five minutes after we arrived, someone started shooting at us," Charlie told her.

"Are you alright!?" she asked in a panic.

Lucien took her hands to calm her down. "Everyone is fine. Frank's insisting on giving us police protection until whoever is behind this is caught. It's a bit of an overreaction, but I wasn't given much of a choice."

"I'm glad you're getting police protection! Lucien, this is very serious! Clearly if this man is after you, he's not afraid of hurting anyone else in the process. The first time it was Mattie knocked out by the blast, this time it was nearly Charlie that got shot. This can't continue!"

"I know. We'll be careful. But we still don't have any leads on who it could be." Lucien wished he could give her more peace of mind, but he had nothing else to offer her.

For the next two days, Frank stationed an officer outside the Blake house. He checked off all patients that came to see Dr. Blake. Only Charlie was allowed to come and go freely. Mattie still wasn't up to working, and Lucien wouldn't allow Jean to do much of anything until he removed her stitches the next day. He stayed home and tended to his medical practice and pored over his old notes in any free moment.

On the third day, Lucien removed the stitches and most of the bandages from Jean's arms. She was nearly all healed. Privately, she was a tad concerned about what kind of scars she'd have after this ordeal, but she knew it was a vain and unnecessary thought; she kept it to herself. They all had enough to worry about, sequestered in the house, without Jean making a fuss about her appearance.

Realizing that Christmas was only three days away and there was practically nothing in the house, Jean snuck out to do a bit of shopping. Bill Hobart wanted to go with her, but she insisted he stay and guard the house. She wouldn't be gone long anyway.

While at the market, Jean ran into Margaret Michaels. "Margaret, how are you? Lucien and I meant to come by and check up on you, but we've had a bit of trouble at home."

Margaret barely made eye contact. She looked about to cry. She continued walking with Jean. "I'm alright. After Mum died, Ben moved back home. He was working in the mines when Dad got arrested, so it was just me and Mum for the last year. Ben takes good care of me."

Jean wasn't convinced. "If you need anything at all—hot meal, help around the house, anything—you be sure to give me a ring. This can't be an easy time. But I'm glad Ben can be with you for Christmas."

Margaret just nodded. Somehow, they'd ended up in the side street next to the market. A loud voice caused them both to jump. "You weren't supposed to talk to her!"

Jean turned to see Ben Michaels yelling at his sister.

He continued to shout. "I can't do this if you don't do what you're supposed to!"

Margaret had begun to cry in earnest. "This isn't her fault! She's nice, Ben! Don't do this!"

"No! He should lose everyone he loves just like we did!"

Jean sensed the danger here and tried to back away quietly.

But Ben noticed. "Don't you dare!" He grabbed her arm directly over one of the remaining bandages. Jean recoiled and shrieked in pain. She must have startled him, because he unhanded her roughly, practically throwing her against the side of the building as he ran away, dragging a still-crying Margaret with him.


	3. Chapter 3

On the other side of the market building, Chief Superintendent Frank Carlyle happened to be walking by and heard shouts and a scream. He ran over to investigate. He found Jean Blake lying on the ground, her eyes fluttering to stay open.

"Mrs. Blake! Mrs. Blake, what happened?" Frank asked with alarm. He tried to pick her up.

Jean was trying to speak, trying to say something, anything. But everything was going dark. "Be…n…M…" was all she could manage before she lost consciousness.

Frank yelled for someone to call an ambulance. He tried to keep Jean awake, but she was already gone. His hand cradled her neck so he could feel her pulse at his fingertips. She was still breathing. As long as she kept breathing and her heart kept beating, everything would be alright.

Lucien was home, an hour later, when the phone rang. He waited for Jean to answer it, but it kept ringing. He frowned and answered it himself. "Dr. Blake," he greeted into the phone.

"Doc, it's Frank Carlyle."

"Frank, you have news for me? Or a new case?"

A heavy sigh created static on the line. "Lucien, it's Jean."

"What about Jean?"

"I found her practically knocked out in the street behind the market. She must have gone out to do some shopping and gotten attacked. The ambo took her to the hospital. The doctors are doing some tests now. She hasn't woken up yet."

Lucien had no words. He hung up the phone and jumped out of his chair, running through the house. "Mattie, Jean's in the hospital. Have Bill drive you," he shouted as he grabbed his car keys and dashed out the new front door.

"Dr. Blake, where are you going?" Sergeant Hobart asked as his protectee started the car.

"Drive Mattie to the hospital!" Lucien yelled as he sped away. He couldn't stop to explain anything. He drove as fast as the car would go. It was a miracle he didn't lose control and drive off the road or get into some sort of accident. He arrived at the hospital in record time.

Frank was awaiting his arrival. "Lucien, calm down."

"Get out of my way, Frank! Where is my wife!?" Lucien was in an uncontrolled panic now.

Frank had to physically restrain him. "The nurses will let you know when you can see her. You'll have to wait."

"Where is she!? Jean! That's my wife! I have to see her!" he kept shouting, trying to remove himself from Frank's grasp. But he was too unfocused to be able to break the hold, as any military trained man easily would have been able to do.

Dr. Alice Harvey came walking over to see Dr. Blake and the Chief Superintendent in a strange pseudo-wrestling fight. "Dr. Blake, I can take you to Mrs. Blake's room now," Alice said calmly. "I was told she was brought in by ambulance so I made sure I was with her through everything. I thought you'd prefer it that way."

Frank let go of Lucien and allowed him to run to Dr. Harvey. "Thank you, Alice," Lucien said, breathless from his frantic struggle.

They made their way through the halls until they arrived at a quiet private room. "She's in here. She's not conscious yet. She got a rather nasty blow to the head. And her arms are the worse for wear, but I'd say by the bandages you already knew about that," Alice posited.

"Yes. Someone lit dynamite on our porch and she was standing near the window when the blast shattered it. I removed the stitches this morning." As soon as Alice opened the door, Lucien lost all interest in explaining anything. He rushed to Jean's side.

She was lying in the hospital bed. There was a bandage wrapped around her head, flattening her usually-perfect hair. Her eyes were closed, and she was breathing without mechanical assistance. Other than the setting, she could have been sleeping.

Lucien grasped her hand in his, falling to his knees at her bedside. He pressed frenzied kisses to her hand until he tasted salt water. He hadn't realized he'd begun crying.

Bill Hobart and Mattie O'Brien arrived at the hospital shortly thereafter. Frank greeted them and Alice explained what they knew. Jean had been knocked unconscious, but the tests didn't reveal any serious brain injury. As far as they knew, she just needed time to come-to.

Since things seemed to be under control, Frank returned to the police station to start a report on Jean's attack. He was sure it was the same person who had tried to blow up the Blake house and had shot at them the night before.

As he worked, he was interrupted by Charlie. "Boss? There's a young woman here who says she needs to speak to you. It's about the Blakes."

Frank realized that Charlie hadn't been told about Jean. It was probably best for the time being that he didn't know. "Send her in, Davis."

A girl, barely over twenty, came in wiping tears from her face. Her breathing was still hitched from crying. "Sir, I'm Margaret Michaels, and my brother, Ben, has been trying to kill the Blakes. He hurt Jean, and I didn't know what else to do."

Frank stood from his desk. "Where is your brother now, Margaret?"

"The barber shop on High Street."

"Let's go, Charlie," Frank called as he dashed out. Charlie was right on his heels.

After two hours of waiting helplessly at Jean's bedside, Lucien finally saw her stir. "Jean?" His voice was eager.

She groaned slightly. "Lucien?"

"Yes, my love, I'm here. I'm here, Jean." He kept ahold of her hand but stood to be closer to her face.

"It was Ben Michaels. He's after us."

Lucien began to shake with rage. "What did he do to you?" His tone was low and dangerous.

Jean's eyes were blinking rapidly as they tried to adjust to the light. "I think he threw me against a wall. I hit my head."

"You're in the hospital now. You're going to be just fine, darling." He did his best to remain calm for her sake, but he was finding it difficult. "I'm going to send Mattie in, alright? I have to go take care of some things."

He didn't wait for her to respond. He kissed her hand one last time and went out to the waiting area. Without further explanation, he told Mattie to go in, and he walked with great purpose out of the hospital and got into his car. When he arrived at the police station, he walked with the same determination.

Lucien found Frank at his desk, working on a report. "Ben Michaels. Jean woke up and identified her attacker."

"Is Jean alright?"

"Frank, we have to go arrest him!"

"We already did," Frank informed him. "His sister came and turned him in. Davis and I arrested him and got a full confession. He's in lockup now."

Lucien turned quickly and made his way to the cells in the back of the police station. "Do you have any idea what you've done!?" he bellowed upon seeing Ben Michaels.

"Me? Do you have any idea what _you've_ done!?" Ben shouted back. "You arrest my father, ruin his career, get him sent to prison, leaving my poor mother all alone with my useless sister? And Mother couldn't take it!"

"Your father _murdered_ a beloved priest! He did it to protect himself from the revelation that he let a patient die in his operating theater!"

Ben wouldn't let up. "You got him locked up! You killed my mother!"

"Stress like that can put strain on a bad heart, but my actions were not responsible for a heart attack!"

"She didn't have a heart attack! We only said that to people because it sounds more respectable than slitting your wrists in my father's home office!"

Lucien was stunned into near-silence. "Ben, I am so sorry for your loss."

"Too late for that, Doc. You're going to be abandoned by everyone you love like I was. I hope that wife of yours bled out in the street."

"You attacked my home, you shot at me and my colleagues, and you assaulted my wife in the street. You're just lucky the police got to you before I did," Lucien growled.

"If only," Ben spat. He leaned toward Lucien in a threatening fashion.

Lucien, with faster reflexes than anyone could have expected, reached through the bars and grabbed Ben by the neck.

"Blake! Unhand him!" Frank shouted from the end of the hall. Lucien ignored him. Frank had to run over and, for the second time that day, physically restrain Dr. Blake. "Lucien!"

This time he did let go. Ben backed away, coughing from being nearly strangled. Lucien turned on his heel and left, unable to look at the young man anymore.

Jean was released from the hospital on Christmas Eve. She was given strict instruction to rest at home for at least another few days before returning to her usual activities. Mattie, now fully recovered from her own ordeal, would take over the housework. Charlie would be doing all the Christmas cooking.

"And I will be making sure you follow the doctor's orders," Lucien told her as he pushed her wheelchair out to the car.

"I don't think I'll be up to playing that game until at least tomorrow," Jean quipped in response.

Lucien laughed. "Even with a head injury, you've got a filthy mind, Mrs. Blake."

"I know. Look what you've done to me," she replied with feigned annoyance.

He just grinned proudly.

Once they arrived home, they were greeted by Charlie and Mattie, both of whom had worked very hard to get the house in the Christmas spirit. But Lucien stopped them from instigating any festivities just yet.

"Oh no you don't," he said, holding Jean back from taking a glass of champagne. "I want you in bed resting for today. If I'm satisfied with your neurological function on Christmas morning, we can have a normal day."

She had to resist rolling her eyes. She couldn't help but think he was being overly cautious, but it was sweet that he was so concerned for her wellbeing. "Yes, I know, doctor's orders," she grumbled, climbing the stairs. She paused. "Actually, Lucien, could you please go check in on Margaret Michaels? I'm worried about her."

Lucien promised he would. As soon as Jean was settled in bed, Lucien left to go see Margaret. She answered the door apprehensively. As soon as she saw Dr. Blake, she threw her arms around his neck and gave him a big hug.

"I'm so glad you're alright, Dr. Blake! I'm so sorry for everything Ben did!" she cried.

"I'm fine, yes. Are you alright? Jean and I have been worried about you."

"Is Jean okay?"

"She's home now, resting. She'll be good as new in a day or so," Lucien told her.

Margaret apologized a few more times after inviting the doctor in. She spoke about how upset Ben had been after their mother committed suicide, how he blamed Dr. Blake for arresting their father and causing their mother to lose her own will to live. Margaret told him it was all Ben's idea and he threatened her to make sure she'd help him. He stole dynamite from the mine he'd been working in to try to blow up the Blake house. He'd take their father's old service revolver and shot Alvin Chelsey during his break in order to get the police surgeon to show up the in alley. And he'd planned on running Jean down with his car, but he'd gotten distracted when he saw Margaret talking to Jean.

"I appreciate you coming forward, Margaret. My family is safe because of your good conscience. I am sorry, though, that you'll be all alone for the holiday. You're welcome to spend it with us," Lucien offered.

But Margaret shook her head. "No, thank you, Dr. Blake. You should be alone with family. And I get to be alone for the very first time. No father to ignore me. No mother to disapprove of me. No brother to get mad at me. I'm going to sell this house eventually, but for now, I want to spend Christmas in it to create one good memory of it.

Lucien went home after that and went straight up to see Jean. He saw that Charlie and Mattie had moved the Christmas tree up to the bedroom, so Jean could lie in bed all day and gaze at their perfect tree, covered in all the beautiful ornaments that held such a special place in her heart. She made them plug in the lights so everything would glow and shine just so. She wouldn't even let Lucien turn it out when he got into bed to go to sleep.

Jean had been resting for days and was feeling just fine. She wasn't tired in the slightest, so she stayed awake, watching the tree. She also kept her eye on the clock. When it struck midnight, she turned to her husband, sleeping peacefully beside her. She gently nudged him. He rolled over onto his back, so she leaned down and kissed him softly.

He hummed happily. "Mmm what's that for?"

"Merry Christmas, Lucien."

He smiled and held her in his arms. "Merry Christmas, Jean." He kissed her hair, all mussed from where the bandages had been for days. "You are the best gift I've ever received."

"Funny, I was about to say the same thing."


End file.
